


Proud

by Ryannahwood (hellsyeah)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 16:50:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11718480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellsyeah/pseuds/Ryannahwood
Summary: Everyone's got something to be proud of, even if they can't see it, or if they've never been told it.Fake AH Crew loves each other and is proud of each other no matter what. For any reason. All the time.Six men, six ways to be proud.Teeth Rotting Crew Love.





	Proud

          Geoff watched as Michael moved from room to room, his steps getting slower each time he passed through the hallway, eyes red with fatigue and swollen from both rubbing them with his fists and the brief moments of agony he let himself feel. Geoff took note of the way Michael favored one of his legs and made sure to keep an eye out for the possibility of blood leaking through the bandages, he knew Michael had been grazed by a bullet in his efforts to grab his boys from the firing line.  
          Geoff had to sit in horror listening to the sounds of his lads desperately trying to find one another, a heist gone so wrong that Team Gents had been evacuated almost immediately, Ryan and Geoff unable to go back in to help, Jack having to wait with the evacuation helicopter. He heard Gavin laughing hauntingly, his gun empty and nothing but the Hail Mary of one last grenade that he held to his chest. He heard Jeremy, pinned down beneath some fallen rubble, pleading with Gavin to just hide, just wait, because Michael was coming to get him. But hearing Michael’s ragged breathing as he tried to climb his way through the collapsed building and avoid bullets filled him with so much anxiety and hope that his heart had stuttered in his chest.  
          Michael hadn’t made it to them without a scratch, he was bruised and bleeding from multiple places but the way he’d ushered the two lads out of the building was almost heroic. Jack had described it as such, having been the one to evacuate the three of them in a smoking helicopter, an unconscious Jeremy, carried and lifted onto the floor of the copter by Michael, a hysterical Gavin who almost faceplanted several times trying to climb inside, and Michael who wasn’t even trying to put on a brave face anymore as he white-knuckled Gavin’s ankle and cradled Jeremy in his lap until they were forcibly taken from him back at headquarters.  
          Now he rushed between the two of them, it’d been eighteen hours and Michael had barely stopped moving and comforting them. Geoff thought that it might have been easier if they had been put into the same room but Jeremy was hooked up to so many machines that they couldn’t risk someone accidently knocking into something. Gavin was sleeping, as he had been on and off since they’d gotten him cleaned up and the bullet wound in his arm stitched up. He wasn’t as injured as Jeremy was, not physically but he was still out of it, his mental stability had been a little iffy but it was getting better, as much as it could in the five collective hours he’d been awake. Jeremy was being kept awake for now, better to monitor his cracked ribs and the concussion. Michael was fluffing pillows and holding water cups, massaging muscles and humming lullabies, keeping his boys as close as he could.  
          But he was neglecting himself. He hadn’t eaten and he was only wearing new pants because they cut his old ones off to patch his wounds.  
          “Michael?” Geoff whispered, trying to catch him between rooms. Michael just hummed and kept moving slowly towards Gavin’s room so Geoff stepped up and placed a hand on his shoulder, stilling him. Michael looked up at him with unfocused eyes. “I’m gonna need you to go take a shower and a nap. And eat something.”  
          There was a long pause as Michael seemed to slowly understand what he said. “In a bit, Gav needs me to-“  
          “No. Go.” Geoff said. He squeezed Michael’s shoulder and gave him a small smile. “I know you’re worried about them but I can watch them while you’re gone.”  
          “But-“  
          “It’s not a request, Michael.” He felt a little bad when Michael’s whole body seemed to slump but he gave Michael a pat on the back as he finally walked away. He watched him until he was almost out of sight and called to him, “And hey, I’m proud of you.” Michael didn’t turn away but Geoff saw him give a little nod and his body relax, so he turned away to check on his other lads.

***

          Jack was sitting on their living room couch when Geoff stumbled in after a job at ten in the evening, his dress shirt was torn and blood had dripped and dried from his nose. He watched as his boss kicked off his shoes and started to unbutton his shirt before seeming to notice the rip across the pocket and pulled it over his head, tossing it toward the trashcan in the kitchen. Geoff moved into the kitchen, his feet dragging behind him, and opened the cabinet next to the fridge for a whiskey glass, sitting it on the counter. He grabbed out one of the bottles from top shelf but his hands stilled when he went to turn the cap, and after a moment he set the bottle heavily on the counter and pushed it away from him.  
          Palms planted on the cool, black granite countertop, Geoff hung his head heavily and sighed, shoulders tensed in a way Jack knew couldn’t be comfortable. When he didn’t move after a few minutes Jack stood from the couch and walked quietly to him. Jack reached around Geoff for the glass and then filled it with cold water from the fridge, placing it down in front of him. He reached out to rub Geoff’s back as he straightened up and took a sip of the water. Geoff moved willingly as Jack turned him around and walked him to their breakfast bar, standing next to him until he slumped into a chair. Jack made sure he was still going to nurse the water before he turned back to the kitchen.  
          “You wouldn’t have liked this stuff anyway,” Jack said, noting the fruity flavor of the vodka in the bottle as he went to put it away. One of the lads’ drinks. Geoff made a short grunt in agreement. Jack hesitated as he put the bottle back, debating not for the first time on moving the entire stash of alcohol into one of the lads’ rooms, but there he’d have no agency over the amount they were drinking. He went back to Geoff then, leaning his hip against the bar and giving Geoff a look until the rest of the water was downed.  
          Geoff wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and seemed to remember his nose then, dried blood flaking off and making Jack cringe. Geoff gave a tired, almost shy, smile and stood, leaning on Jack when he reached out to make sure he didn’t fall. “I’m not drunk, you know,” Geoff mumbled.  
          “I know. But you’re exhausted and you’re too old to be falling asleep on the floor or in a chair.” Jack laughed when Geoff swatted at him but didn’t let go of him when Geoff attempted to pull away out of spite. He walked Geoff all the way to his bedroom but finally let him go so he could stumble into bed by himself. Jack thought it was a welcomed sight to not see any empty beer or liquor bottles strewn about the room, which was actually clean – another new and welcomed sight. He moved into the master bath to wet a wash cloth for his friend, who was trying to struggle out of his dress pants while lying on his stomach, and tossed it at his head when he returned to the room. “I’m not going to help you out of those, so either stand up and take them off or deal with being uncomfortable all night.”  
          Geoff groaned as he rolled over but grabbed the rag, which had smacked into the back of his neck, and cleaned the blood off his face. When he stood and dropped the rag into a pile of dirty clothes Jack took it as his sign to leave, but Geoff stopped him, “Aren’t you going to ask me how the job went? Any details you want to know?”  
          Jack shook his head, “No, I know you’ll still remember in the morning.” There was a pause as they both weighed the meaning behind that sentiment between them, “You know I’m proud of you, right?”  
          Geoff didn’t say anything but he nodded, his tired eyes seeming more open and hopeful than Jack had seen in years. Jack knew Geoff had overcome a lot and sometimes a little recognition was all he needed to know his own strength.

***

          Ryan wiped the sweat out of his eyes with the bottom of his t-shirt as he finished up his workout in the small gym their building had – which was full of old equipment and had a floor that was littered with sketchy stains – and noticed Jack standing outside the gym against the wall, fiddling with his phone. He took his time putting the weights back on their rack and collecting his things, hoping Jack would just come in if he needed something. He waved to the one other person in the room, who was clearly trying to run a marathon on the treadmill, and went to leave. Ryan pulled the door open and laughed when the movement made Jack jump and almost drop his phone. Jack glared at him but glanced around him at the door.  
          “I didn’t know you were in there...” Jack said. Ryan glanced at the windows surrounding the door and the one in the middle of the door and frowned, but decided not to question it then.  
          “Are you going in?” He took a step to the side, leaving enough room for Jack to move past him into the room but Jack only crossed his arms.  
          “No, I think I’m just going to give him more time,” Jack nodded toward the marathon runner.  
          “So, you didn’t know I was in there but you noticed the random guy on the treadmill?”  
          “Well he walked passed me to get in so...”  
          Ryan let go of the door and let it close, mimicking Jack’s posture by crossing his arms over his chest and frowning. “How long have you been standing out here exactly?”  
          Jack just shrugged, leaning down to pick up the water bottle at his feet and adjusting his sweatpants around his ankles, clearly avoiding answering the question. Ryan waited a minute until he was sure Jack wasn’t going to answer and sighed, going back into the room and tapping the treadmill guy on the shoulder. Ryan told him to get his shit and get out but when the guy refused Ryan gathered his things for him, thrust them into his arms, and then physically forced the man out by his shoulders. Jack pressed back against the wall and only smiled when the guy tried to threaten Ryan with a punch only to be stopped by the very murderous look in his eye.  
          “You know he’s going to complain to the building manager about this, right?” Jack sounded amused, though his expression proved that he was confused by Ryan’s action.  
          “Yeah and Mica will pretend like she’s going to issue a warning or something and we’ll never hear from him again, now get in here.” Ryan tugged Jack into the room and closed the door behind him. “If you want me to leave I will but I can’t guarantee that no one else from the building will come down here while I’m gone.”  
          “You don’t have to do that, it’s not a big deal, I can just workout later. I’m kind of tired anyway.” Ryan glared at him until Jack sat his water down, only to pick it back up, “Really it’s cool, we could go-“  
          “Jack. I am only going to say this once: you should not be ashamed or afraid to come into this gym. And if someone ever made you ashamed or even looked at you funny I would flay them and hang their corpse from the penthouse window. I know that there were a lot of shitty jokes about eating within our crew and even shittier ones from people outside it but you are doing this for you. Coming to the gym or eating a whole pizza in one sitting, it doesn’t matter. And I will be proud of you, what you’ve done, and who you are, no matter what. Got it?” Ryan seemed to realize his shoulders were back and his chest out, like he was parading around his anger and pride to a pack of enemy lions, and relaxed all at once, arms falling limp at his sides. Jack looked wide-eyed at his face for a long moment, smiled brightly, and then tossed his water bottle at him.  
          “Your throat is going to need some lubrication after that speech. I don’t think I’ve heard you talk that much in years.” Jack laughed loudly when Ryan glared at him but finally moved over to the wall where the weights were. Ryan collapsed onto the seat of a machine and laid back against it. He could have sworn he heard Jack say thank you but when he hummed in question Jack didn’t say anything.

***

          Jeremy sat on the top of a truck trailer, watching for any sign of the Fake’s resident mercenary. Ryan had been sent out on a job the night before and returned home after midnight. Gavin said his shoes were drenched in blood and he didn’t say a word, even though he and Michael were sat up still playing Smash in the living room and Ryan always warns them playing in the dark will ruin their aim. Which all in all wouldn’t have been alarming to the crew, and they weren’t, until Jeremy went to take Ryan some breakfast doughnuts and he didn’t answer. Jeremy had picked the lock and    set out to find Ryan immediately after seeing he wasn’t in his room.  
          There was something wonderful about Ryan having a predictable pattern, it meant that Jeremy knew there were only a few places he had to check if his hunch about Ryan having a breakdown were true. The first place, the abandoned airport, was clean, no new tire marks or fires burning, but he hit gold with the second place. The old factory building was a hazard to even be around but Ryan thought that made it better, he told Jeremy once while he was half asleep that he felt better if the place he was ruining was already broken. And by the sight of a burning motorcycle outside Jeremy knew he’d found him.  
          When Ryan emerged from the building Jeremy walked across the back of the truck and climbed down the closed doors, only to be faced with the barrel of a gun when he turned around. Jeremy didn’t flinch, he didn’t raise his hands, he just tucked his hands into his pockets and waited for Ryan to register who it was. The gun lowered and dropped to the ground, Ryan’s hands were shaking as he reached out to grasp Jeremy’s face, apologies spilled from his lips. Jeremy patted the back of the hands on his face and grinned.  
          “It’s alright big guy, I know you’re not going to hurt me,” Jeremy said. He kept the grin on his face even as he took in the sight of Ryan with ash smudged on his face and mixing haphazardly with face paint that looked as if it was from yesterday. Jeremy was sure he was seeing tear tracks mixed in with the mess on his face, and was completely sure once he noticed the redness of Ryan’s eyes. He gave Ryan a few more moments before he pried his hands from his face and let them fall back at Ryan’s sides. “Come on, let’s go home. I’ve got water in the car, and I stole the doughnuts from the crew so you’d get to eat them all.”  
          Jeremy started walking towards his car slowly, only picking up pace when he heard Ryan’s boots following behind him. “I’m not hungry,” Ryan said, his voice cracked and he cleared his throat. Jeremy figured it was dry from either the crying or maybe some yelling but probably both. He stayed quiet until he could open the passenger side door and usher Ryan inside the car.  
          “Then just sip some water until we get home, ‘kay?” Jeremy moved around and got into the driver’s seat. He started the car before picking up and pressing the water bottle into Ryan’s hands, holding it there until Ryan’s fingers closed around it.  
          He drove back to the penthouse while following every rule of the road, not even speeding, because the far-away look in Ryan’s eyes told Jeremy that anything too jolting could ruin the bit of composure he’d found. Once back in the garage he texted Gavin quickly to let him know they were home and to make sure no one bothered Ryan right now. And he was glad he did because the rest of the crew was watching some action movie and arguing about it when they walked in, but no one turned to them and no one greeted them as Jeremy urged Ryan down the hall and into his room. Jeremy sat Ryan down on the end of his bed and opened Ryan’s side table drawer to find the pack of baby wipes he knew were kept in there. Kneeling in front of Ryan, Jeremy softly wiped away grime and paint from his face until Ryan was looking down at him and reached up to grab his wrist.  
          “I’m sorry,” Ryan said, but Jeremy shook his head.  
          “No reason to apologize, buddy. I know you didn’t sign up for this job-“  
          Ryan cut him off, “I killed so many people, Jeremy. There’s so much blood on my hands.”  
          “We’ve all got blood on our hands. But unlike most people around here you still care about it. You’ve still got your heart, and I am proud of you for it. You do what you have to do.” Jeremy smiled when Ryan and helped him lay back onto his pillows, the exhaustion from not sleeping and then his panic attack finally washing over him, “Get some sleep, Ry. We’ll still be here when you wake up.”

***

          “And what’s this, they’ve sent the idiot to talk to me? And a useless gun? Don’t I feel important.” Gavin made sure to keep his face blank as the man in front of them spoke. But despite his own calm he saw Jeremy’s face harden next to him. Geoff had sent him and Jeremy out to make a deal with some arms dealer who thought he was hot shit. Of course, make a deal meant either get his weapons for a cheap price or kill him and let B-team take the weapons for free. It was always easier to make friends than to deal with fallback from enemies.  
          “I’d watch your mouth, you’re on our turf.” Gavin said, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and pretended to text someone, ignoring the man out of spite and trusting Jeremy to pull the trigger, literally, if he needed to.  
          “Am I supposed to fear you? And your friend here-“ the man paused, “who is he even supposed to be? Not the Vagabond, clearly, from the lack of height, and not your usual pal, Mogar, because I’ve unfortunately met him before.”  
          Gavin sighed, still not looking up from his phone, “This is J, you don’t have to be afraid of me but you should be afraid of him.” He finally glanced up from his phone, “Now, I know Ramsey sent you the maximum number he’s willing to give so I only have one question: Do we have a deal?”  
          The man hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin with his finger in an obviously sarcastic manner, and then started to laugh loudly. Gavin figured it was supposed to be an intimidation tactic but he just shrugged, looked at Jeremy, and nodded. Jeremy fired the gun before the guy even realized he’d pulled it.  
          Back at the penthouse Gavin made celebratory drinks, mostly because he wanted one, but when he found Jeremy he was beating the life out of a punching bag in his room. Gavin sat the drinks down by the door and crossed the room, staying out of Jeremy’s reach. The anger on his face was evident and Gavin didn’t even say anything before he was pushing the rig over and into the wall – leaving a hole that Jack would definitely get mad about later – and throwing his gloves across the room.  
          “Jeremy, what’s gotten into you, my lovely Jeremy?” Gavin asked, watching as Jeremy’s shoulders heaved as he caught his breath. Gavin didn’t give him time to answer, “is this about what that arse said back on the job?” When Jeremy didn’t deny it he continued, “Cause you know he was new to town so his information was probably old-“  
          “How long then?” Jeremy asked. Gavin hummed, waiting for clarification. “How long until the rumors and information spread further than the city, Gavin? I’ve been officially part of this shit show for two years and I still get this bullshit.”  
          “That’s a lot of shit.” Jeremy glared at Gavin’s weak attempt at a joke and shook his head. Gavin knew he didn’t expect an answer but he gave him one anyway. “I don’t know, J. I can’t tell you how long it’ll take until your name is as feared and remembered at the level that Ryan or Geoff’s are but I can tell you that it doesn’t matter to us. You’re Jeremy, your plans have been more well put together than anything we’ve ever tried to do, your skills outrank any of us in so many different things – and don’t deny that because I will argue about it forever, - and we care about you. We know you are crew. I’m proud to call you my crew. Proud of you in general.” Gavin smiled at him until Jeremy started to smile back then said, “But I am not proud enough to call you Rimmy Tim in public.”  
          Jeremy lunged at him and pulled him into a hug, “doesn’t matter cause I’m not him anyway.” Gavin squirmed in his hold and tried to pull away, loudly complaining about how Jeremy was gross and sweaty but Jeremy just held tighter and laughed louder.

***

          Michael grumbled the entire walk down the hall, which was taking forever because he kept having to stop and throw red bull cans into the trash bag in his hand. He could not understand how one human being could make such a mess of a huge penthouse but Gavin was a special case. Michael had already filled the bag halfway full and he wasn’t even in Gavin’s room yet, so he had an extra empty one in his back pocket for the inevitable mess he would find behind the door at the end of the hall.  
          It was one case, one stupid rat on a job, and not even a rat for their crew, someone had sold out a rival crew and Geoff was able to take the crew down and now he wanted to know who it had been. Which meant Gavin was holed up in the penthouse on every piece of technology ever invented trying to weed out a person who, if they were still near the crew they ratted out, was probably dead. But no one liked to listen to Michael about these sorts of things so he just resigned himself back into the role of boi-sitting. The others would check on Gavin periodically, bring him food or fresh drinks, wrap him in a blanket to try and trick him into sleep, but it was Michael who was cleaning his mess and keeping constant tabs on his health.  
          Michael dropped the bag on the ground outside Gavin’s door so he could survey the mess before he cleaned and pushed the door open. He didn’t even try to look shocked as he found his best friend staring blankly at a computer screen, surrounded by four others, in otherwise complete darkness. Gavin didn’t even move when Michael flipped on the lights in the room. Michael kicked a box out of the doorway with his foot, some empty file box that probably once contained the papers littered on every surface and, in some cases, were being ruined by various liquids and food particles.  
          “Jesus fucking Christ, Gav, what are you doing in here?” Michael went back to grab his bag and started pushing empty cans and mugs alike into it without care. Gavin blinked slowly at him after a moment.  
          “Michael,” his voice was soft from disuse and exhaustion, “those are my mugs, Michael.”  
          “Should’ve thought of that before you let a hundred of them start to mold from gross old tea.” Michael didn’t pause in his cleaning until Gavin tried to push back his chair and the leg got stuck on a blanket and tipped backwards. Michael managed to grab it before it, and Gavin, hit the floor but the sudden jolt of movement had Gavin green in the face. Michael sat him up gently and helped him stand from the chair. “When was the last time you ate?”  
          Gavin shook his head, “Can’t eat. Too nauseous.”  
          “You’re only nauseous cause you haven’t eaten, idiot. Come on, we’re putting you to bed. I’ll feed you when you wake up.”  
          Gavin tried to pull his arm from Michael’s grip but he didn’t have the strength to even give it a good try. He took a few sluggish steps but frowned when he noticed Michael was walking out of the door with him. “M’ bed’s over there?” He asked it because he wasn’t entirely sure if he was moving anymore or where he was oriented, his eyes had fallen shut. Michael urged him a few more steps before he groaned and bent to pick Gavin up. That seemed to wake him up a bit because his eyes shot open and he flailed, smacking Michael in the face.  
          “Fuckin’ quit, I’m trying to keep you from dying.” Michael said.  
          “I can’t, I’ve got to find him. I’m so close.” The bit of energy Gavin had at the beginning of speaking had trailed back into a mumble by the end. Michael walked him down the hall to his own room, kicked the door open, and gently placed him on the bed. Any other day he would have just dropped him but Gavin still had a bit of green in his cheeks and Michael wasn’t going to risk his carpet.  
          He rolled Gavin up in his blankets like a burrito and went to turn off the light when Gavin spoke again, “what if I can’t find him? What if it turns out I’m useless again?”  
          Michael flipped the light off and sighed. He walked over to the bed and sat next to the Gavin burrito, “first, you’re not useless ever and you’ve never been useless. Except as functioning like an adult and cleaning up after yourself, but we’ve got that covered for you. Second, if anyone in the world can find this ghost it’s you. I’ve never seen anyone manipulate a computer like you do.”  
          “It’s not manipulating, Michael,” Gavin whispered.  
          “Shut up. I don’t care what it’s called. You’re the smartest person I know, and even if you’re an absolute idiot mong sometimes, I’m proud to call you my boi.” Gavin tried to roll over in his cocoon and when he found he couldn’t he finally relaxed.  
          “I love you, too, boi.”  
          “Go to sleep, idiot.” Michael stayed by his side until he was sure Gavin’s snores weren’t fake.


End file.
